I can't believe it happened to me. I was installing cable as part of my cover for Operation Vengeful Talon, JSOC's attempt to thwart the SDC's encroachment on suburban New Jersey. The woman who answered the door was a ten wearing nothing but a towel. She said her name was Trisha. She looked familiar to me. A little too familiar. Venezuela 1987

The only way in was HALO insertion. They needed us on the ground by 0200. Hook up with a local guerilla group who could give us our lead on Hernandez and the arms he was moving through Chile with the help of the Cubans. They thought he was another jungle freedom fighter, but he had bigger goals. Arming African Islamist groups to push back against the strong men that Washington and the Soviets wanted in power.

We let Hernandez slip through our fingers. But we had something almost as useful. We had Romanovski.

I followed her into the bathroom. Everything was steamed up. She turned to me and let the towel drop away from her sexy naked body. Her boobs were big and firm. She was ready to get it on with me. She had no idea I was there to capture or kill Romanovski's old buddy.

"Your father used to see the numbers when he looked," she said and I realized it wasn't a woman at all! It was Noboskov.

"How did you get here?" I demanded.

Instead of an answer, I began to orgasm as I saw a flash to the day that my father was killed. Ready in REDACTED